


Arrivals

by aricasuntoast



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Military, Fluff, M/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 19:29:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1910970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aricasuntoast/pseuds/aricasuntoast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean has waited two years for his fiance, Marco, to come back from the war. He revisits the memories they shared from the previous times. The night before, he has a nightmare involving Marco's death and it causes him anxiety, hoping he really is alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arrivals

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again! This is my second fic, or really, a one-shot. It'll involve a modern AU with headcanons like Armed Forces, including Survey Corps and all that; and Marco's SNK death.
> 
> (inspired by this picture: https://i.pinimg.com/736x/59/ff/f5/59fff582977d7ce1561a9b60816b6690--jeans-ships.jpg)

Jean rechecked his calendar for the millionth time, as if its days would change. Tomorrow's date was circled several times in red. It was true. _They're coming back._

It had been 16 months since Jean had talked to Marco. Two years ago Marco was called to duty shipped off into the war, and even though he tried his best to contact him – through Skype, texting, and writing letters – his duties soon overpowered Jean and he couldn't call him once a week anymore like he did for the first eight months. As much as Jean meant to Marco, his captain thought otherwise and told him not to "be a clingy pansycake and get your ass out there to defend your country".

He really hoped he was okay. The battle had ended and a peace treaty was signed, and he hadn't received any letters or telegrams or messengers at his door saying that Marco went missing or was killed in action. Maybe those letters got lost in the mail or they didn't notice he was missing. Maybe the military didn't consider Jean as an emergency contact and had told his mother about Marco instead of him.

 _No, they'd tell me,_ he thought. _I'm his fiancé._

He looked at the gold ring resting upon his finger. It was the only thing that reminded him that he had someone who was fighting for him. He took it off and looked at the engravings. It read "Jean • Marco" on one side, and on the other, "Freedom" with two symbols of wings around the word. The symbol was similar to the one that represented the division Marco was enrolled in, the Survey Corps. Their emblem was called the Wings of Freedom. The other brigades were the Military Police and the Garrison Regiment, but Jean believed the Survey Corps were the strongest and most important, and fought the most outside their territory. He was proud, and at the same time, worried. He put the ring back on, and remembered when Marco had first presented it to him.

> They were watching their favorite TV series, _The Titans_. It was about the human species who were on the brink of extinction and lived behind these walls that protected them from the Titans, which were these man-eating giants – most were guys and surprisingly had no dicks. They probably shouldn't or else the show would be taken down by the FCC or be classified as some weird dystopia porn. _Who's into that?_
> 
> Jean was shoveling popcorn into his mouth, eyes glued to the screen. The two watched it every Sunday night, without fail. They even read the books the series was based on, but tried not to read so far ahead so it wouldn't spoil whatever they watched in glorious HD. At some points HD wasn't so glorious when a soldier's ribs were cracked and he spewed out blood as Titans ripped his body apart.
> 
> "Hey, Jean?" his boyfriend asked.
> 
> "Yeah?" he replied, assuming it was some silly question, like _Do Titans at least have relationships and go on dates?_  or _They may not have penises but shouldn't they wear clothes or something? They're not that primitive, are they?_
> 
> "Will you marry me?" Marco had said it so calmly, Jean hadn't really paid attention to him at first. When the words finally got to his ears, it clicked in his head. He whipped his head up and looked over to Marco. He was holding an open box. The ring sparkled in the light that the TV was giving off. They didn't like to spend much and had a mediocre apartment, but did he spend all of his income from enrollment in the military on this?
> 
> "M-Marco!" he screamed, his popcorn falling over and spilling on the floor. "I-I...this was so unexpected, I'm n-not prepared!"
> 
> Marco's smile twisted into a confused and worried pout. "Is that a no, then?" Jean was almost offended by the sound of his tone, as if he was waiting for him to deny his proposal.
> 
> "N-no, it's n-not a no! I-I will marry you, Marco." Jean's stuttering problem was always worse when he was extremely nervous. "I j-just thought i-it would be after a romantic dinner, with fancy stuff a-and pretty music, and–"
> 
> "Did you want that? I can do that, you know, just pretend I didn't ask you to marry me–"
> 
> Jean cut him off by pressing his lips to Marco's. He tried his best not to let himself get too aggressive and make the kiss too needy and too hungry. He kept it cute, even though there were the screams of the dying characters from the show in the background. "I said y-yes, Freckles. I don't care whatever h-happens, as long as I'm w-with you."
> 
> They spent the rest of the night snuggling on the couch, eating the popcorn that had fallen to the floor, and adding their own comments to the show (like "That Titan has nice eyes"). It was like they haven't just gotten engaged, but if you looked closely, they were smiling idiots (despite more deaths and frustration from the show) and there was vibrant energy in the air.

_If only you were with me right now._  His thoughts echoed throughout their apartment. His silent words were deafening; how he longed just to hear another voice to reassure Jean that he was not going crazy. As he set his alarms for the next morning, he remembered when Marco was called for duty, only a week after they had gotten engaged.

> They were in the airport, and the soldiers were giving their final goodbyes before they embarked on their journeys.
> 
> "We'll get married when I get back. I promise." Marco said, taking Jean's hands in his.
> 
> "I'll try not to wear my wedding dress around, then," he replied.
> 
> "D-Dress? Whatever you want, babe." The two sighed when they heard the signal of Commander Erwin and Corporal Levi. It was time for them to go. Marco had to get on the war planes with his comrades to fly overseas and jump behind the big guns.
> 
> "I'll miss you." He said, desperate to get a few more words in. He wanted to say more, so much more, but it was all he could say.
> 
> "I'll miss you more." He gave Jean one last kiss and he turned around and joined the others.
> 
> "Don't die." Jean barely choked out. He hadn't meant for it to be heard, but he hoped a little that Marco did.

_He's not dead._  Jean lay in his bed, which felt empty and cold without Marco's presence. _One last night without him._  he thought. _He's coming back,_  the words comforting him as he drifted of to sleep.

* * *

"Hey."

His own hands trembled in front of him, covered in white gloves. His voice was muffled by a white handkerchief tied around his face.

"You're…Marco…"

He saw his fiancé's body slumped over. He wore his military uniform, but it was frayed, stained with blood, and ripped. His clothes were by far not the most horrific part. Marco's entire right side of his face was missing, along with his arm and a quarter of his torso. His warm, bright smile was gone, lips pulled back to reveal his teeth. His freckles were hidden underneath his pale, lifeless skin. His brown, inviting eyes were cold. His entire body looked sad and had blackened.

_No._

_No._

_This can't be._

"Cadet…you know his name?" an unknown voice said. Jean mumbled to himself. He hadn't seen Marco in a while, and he finds him here, now, _dead_. How did he even die? "What's his name? If you know, answer me right now. Understand, cadet? Two days have gone by since the hole was plugged with the boulder, but we still aren't done recovering the bodies. At this right, contagious diseases might spread. We have to prevent a secondary disaster. There's no time to mourn the deaths of our comrades yet. Understand?"

"104 Trainee Squad…" He remembered Marco screaming with joy as he displayed his new diploma, stating that he had graduated his training and was an official soldier. "Leader of the 19th squad…" Marco was strong and compassionate, making him extremely likable by the others. One of his army friends, Reiner, a huge bodybuilder who could have easily rose to the top of the ranks, had described him as 'a mix of good traits that is too valuable to lose'. Jean had lost him. "Marco…Bodt."

* * *

Jean's eyes shot open in a second, and sat up quickly in his bed. It was dark; the only thing that showed he was there was his panting and ragged breathing. He touched his face. Wet from tears. On instinct, he patted the space next to him, looking for Marco. He was always there when Jean had his night terrors, but this time Marco's absence was the source of his awful dream. Immediately, he grabbed his phone and dialed the next important person he knew.

Connie.

"Dude, what the hell? It's 4 in the morning. You know my shift ends late and I'm trying to get sleep." Connie drowsily scolded.

"And _you_ know I have nightmares." Jean said, This was the first time he had spoke out loud in a while, and from his state of shock, his voice was shaky.

"Oh." Connie replied, sensing this was a serious issue. "Are you okay?"

Jean wiped at his teary eyes. "I don't know…I dreamt that Marco died."

He heard a sigh emit from his receiver. "Jean, I assure you he's safe. He's coming back tomorrow – or actually later today."

He felt his throat swell up again as he said, "I know, but…what if he's not? Anything could have happened to him. It's been two years."

"How did he die…in your dream?"

"Half of him was like, bitten off…"

"Bitten off? You mean like a Titan?" Connie and some of their other friends watched _The Titans_ too, but not with a love that Jean and Marco had for the show. "Man, you've been watching too much of it."

"I haven't." Jean mumbled. "I promised Marco I wouldn't watch it until he comes back. We'd catch up together."

"That's two years worth of episodes, bro."

"I didn't expect to wait so long!" Jean burst. "I'm just so worried about him."

"Well, you'll found out soon, okay? Listen, I have to get some sleep, sorry. Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah." Jean lied.

"Then, goodnight, Jean."

"Night, Connie." He did not get so much sleep himself. He spent two more hours laying awake in bed, worrying. Finally, at 6am, he fell asleep.

~

His goddamn alarm woke him up at 7:30am. Jean had ended up on the floor instead of his bed; Marco usually served as a stopper from him tossing and turning and rolling onto the floor.

Jean wanted to stay in and sulk more, but a thought popped into his head: Marco. He jumped to his feet with unbelievable energy and scrambled to put on his last clean outfit. He poured himself a bowl of Lucky Charms, his favorite cereal. He liked the horseshoe marshmallows the most for some reason. He ripped off the cardboard from a package on wrote with black Sharpie: Marco Bodt. He didn't need the sign because both of them knew what each other looked like, but he thought the gesture was cute.

He grabbed his car keys and ran out of his apartment, and raced down the stairs, chanting, "Marco, Marco, Marco!" as he descended. He found his car in their parking lot, and when he touched the door handle, he suddenly remembered his nightmare. Jean froze, his keys dangling from his hand.

"Hey…You're…Marco…" his words echoed in his mind. This time it went on, and he imagined what his funeral would look like. There would be flowers, people in black, and as a soldier, his comrades would shoot their guns into the sky in his honor.

He furrowed his eyebrows as tears slipped down his cheeks, and slowly slid to the floor. He leaned against his car, and hugged his knees and put his head between his arms. People passed by, giving him looks or trying to quickly get past some crazy guy sobbing in front of his car.

His phone buzzed, and it was an alert from an event he had made a month ago. He remembered setting it the moment he watched the news and learned the war was over and the soldiers were coming back on today's date.

He wiped his face on his grey-blue sweater sleeve and proceeded to get in his car. He turned on the engine and made his way to the airport.

~

By the time Jean got there, a big crowd was also waiting for the soldiers to arrive. He checked the marquees above him to make sure he was at the right gate. The plane had just boarded and Marco and his comrades could walk into the terminal at any second.

He stood on top a row of chairs to get a better view and the people started cheering. The first of the Survey Corps had come home! The members had solemn expressions but once they saw their loved ones their faith in humanity was restored and they smiled. The soldiers and their families hugged and kissed and rejoiced all around Jean. Some started to head towards the baggage claim, others went back home to welcome back their soldiers from the war.

One by one, everyone started to disappear. He estimated one out of every ten families would not get their son/daughter/brother/sister/husband/wife back, judging by the way some devastated wails filled the airport. He watched as those families left, holding the badge from their uniforms and the dog tags bearing their names. These effects were given by officials like Commander Erwin, Corporal Levi, Squad Leader Hanji and Squad Leader Mike, who looked like they wanted to cry really badly but had to keep it together for the sake of their fallen men and women. He read the names on some of their last objects to remember them by: Thomas, Mina, Franz, Nac, Mylius, and so many more. He silently prayed for their souls. He also wished he wouldn't get a badge and a tag displaying Marco's name.

There was barely anyone left now. Jean wanted to ask someone if Marco was there, but he was too afraid to know the answer. The superiors wouldn't tell him because they were engulfed in a deep conversation with some military leaders from the other Armed Forces Brigades, the Military Police and the Garrison Regiment.

Slowly, he got down from the chair he stood on, and curled into a ball in it. Tears brimmed his eyes as he imagined a sad-looking individual delivering the news, and handing him his badge and tag. He pictured his funeral again, and what people would say in their eulogies.

"Marco's coming back, Marco's coming back…" he said over and over to himself. Images from his dream kept resurfacing. He gave in to his fear and let out a pained cry. He covered his face with his hands. He felt pathetic for crying three times in one day, but cut him some slack. "Marco's…c-coming…" He tried to say but couldn't even finish.  
Jean felt a hand on his shoulder and he winced, expecting it to be someone telling him his fiancé was dead, and to go home. "M-Marco…"

"Polo."

Jean looked up, and saw Marco standing next to him. His vision was blurry but he knew it was him. He looked like an angel with the lights surrounding him.

He hugged Marco's right arm, the one that was missing in his dream. He buried his face in his camo uniform, staining it with tears. Marco wrapped himself around Jean, his training-induced muscles crushing Jean's frail, shaking body. "God…you are such an idiot for using that 'Marco Polo' thing…" Jean bawled. "You're such an idiot for leaving me for two goddamn years. Two fucking years, Marco, two alone, no The Titans, nightmare-filled years…stupid idiot, you…"

Marco tilted Jean's chin up to look at him. "You had nightmares while I was gone? Oh, Jean…" He brushed back his two-tone hair that had fallen and stuck to his face, smeared with tears and snot.

"I d-dreamt that you died, you died a-and half of your f-face and torso and your e-entire right arm was missing…" Jean entwined his fingers with Marco's right hand.

"No, no, I'm here now." Marco pulled his sleeve over his hand and dried Jean's face. He flashed his usual bright smile, but his eyes didn't shine as much. Jean frowned. He had probably seen some traumatizing stuff that was way worse than Jean's dreams. "Let's get married as soon as possible. Two years is too long of a wait. I don't want to leave you alone again." Marco kissed Jean, and it was definitely the same way he did in the past. "I'll request to leave the Survey Corps. I don't want to keep being sent to the battlefield."

Jean's eyes widened. Marco's pride all resided in his occupation. He praised his job. He wanted to join the Military Police at first, but the officials decided his skills would go nicely in the Survey Corps. The army was all he was. "What? No! You've done so much in the Armed Forces!"

"Then my work here is done."

"I-I can wait another two years, Marco…" Jean hugged him tighter and wrapped his arms around his waist. "I can wait for as long as it takes for you to keep fighting and to come back. I can wait, Marco."

"But _I_ can't."

* * *

_Epilogue: Marco could not leave the Armed Forces, but he was reassigned to work with the Military Police, like he originally wanted. That way he could still have the pride of working in the military and at the same time, always be with Jean. His chances of survival were much higher and he always came home, and they would catch up on the last two years of_ The Titans _on Netflix. Jean didn't have a single nightmare after that. Three months later they finally got married, and were one of the first gay couples to get married in the military. Many more followed suit. They adopted a boy named Bertholdt, who also loved_ The Titans _, with an addiction surprisingly bigger than Jean's and Marco's._


End file.
